//------------------------------// // 9 - Of Revelation and Consternation // Story: A King's Return // by Maulkin //------------------------------// The village had been transformed almost overnight. A proper orchard flourished, no longer twisted by Discord's foul magic, and gave fruit according to its kind; apples from their trees, grapes from their vines, berries from their bushes. The soil, too, had been cleansed from the taint, and honest grass and true flowers grew where once noxious vines and brambles choked the ground. The very air seemed cleaner, fresher, newer. But the biggest change was in the ponies themselves. A new light and life had seemed to come into them, and almost shone from their faces like sunlight and moonbeams. The little black unicorn did not quite understand it, for he had never seen genuine hope before; there had never been anything to really hope for. For the first time in his life he saw more smiles than frowns, more laughs than groans. The ponies, no longer struggling to survive, were free to be who they were. The nightmare was over, it seemed; morning had come. Older, stronger unicorns quickly sought him out to learn the new magic, of course, and he was only too happy to oblige; he had not yet learned the hubris of secret knowledge and the pleasure of hoarded power. It took many practical demonstrations to supplement his own awkward words and explanations – he was still young, he hadn't the knowledge to say in words what his heart and mind knew – but before long most of the other unicorns could cast it themselves, and helped to hasten the purification. Soon, everything in sight of the village had been cleansed and set to rights. Had he known the word he would have compared it to Eden; as it was, it was the best thing he'd seen in his short life, and he was all grins and giggles for days on end. Sudden whoops of joy caught his attention, and he followed the others' gazes to the sky. Descending in twin rainbows of pastel pinks and subdued blues were none other than the Great Sisters, the Champions who defeated Discord! His heart soared at the sight of them. As the Sisters landed, however, he found he could no longer see them; others were already crowding around them, blocking his view. Still... They were there! In his very village! He quavered with excitement, and hadn't yet the worldly experience and knowledge to wonder why they were there; it was good enough for him that they were. Without any consideration for decorum or dignity, he pushed and wormed his way through the crowd to get a good look at the two heroes. He made his way through the sea of legs and tails, using his small size to his advantage, and finally caught sight of them. The Sisters glowed in a light of their own, more beautiful and powerful than the tales could convey, and the sight of them stirred something in his heart. Fleeting images ran through his mind, notions that he could be like them, great and good, mirthful and powerful, untouched by Discord's blight... The sudden yearning was so strong it nearly ached. He pushed on, so inspired, to get a better glimpse of the ones so powerful and pure. He stopped at the edge, however, as the reality of the situation sunk in. They were great and good, yes, and had done deeds fit for legends, and brought peace to the land. What dealings could they possibly have with a little nobody, like him? Nothing. They couldn't possibly have anything to do with him, he realized, his heart sinking and his ears drooping. Moreover, what would they do to him if he was rude, or disrespectful? He gulped, unsure, but he didn't want to find out; he quickly shied away, hiding behind the first few rows of onlookers, feeling a good deal safer away from their gazes. Still... it couldn't hurt to see them. So long as he stayed out of sight, he reasoned, he would be fine. He watched them through the shifting legs and swishing tails, wishing to get a better look but fearing being seen himself. The elder swung her head around to regard the crowd with a radiant, mirthful smile. The colt gave a startled 'eep!' and ducked away, earning him a few disapproving frowns from the older ponies around him, but the Sister didn't seem to notice. When she finally spoke, her voice was like a thundering storm but merry as a summer breeze, and he nearly shied away again. “WHO HAS CLEANSED THIS VILLAGE OF DISCORD'S TAINT?” There was a chorus of answers as each of the adult unicorns in the village claimed a measure of credit for their work. The elder laughed, and to the little colt's ears it was sweetness itself. “VERILY YOU HAVE, MY DEAR PONIES – I HAVE SEEN YOUR WORK WITH MINE OWN EYES, AND YOU HAVE DONE WELL! BUT FROM WHENCE CAME THIS NEW SPELL, THIS NEW MAGIC?” All of the boasters fell silent, and the rest of the gathered ponies shifted awkwardly. The colt suddenly found all of the nearby ponies looking down at him, clearly expecting him to stand up and claim credit... but he was too shocked to move. A moment later there was a frightened squeak, and he found himself pushed forward, out of the protective ring of anonymity and right into the midst the two Sisters. He stared up at them, eyes wide and jaw slack, for several moments. Then, with a whimper and whine, he fell flat onto his barrel and tried to hide himself under his own hooves. There was a bemused silence as the two sisters regarded the terrified colt. They turned one another for a moment, conferring wordlessly, and the younger stepped forward. “Excuse me little one,” the younger said, her voice soft as moonlight, her Royal Canterlot Voice forgotten, “are you the one we seek? Did you devise this spell? Did you find a way to free things of the foulness?” The colt, still terrified at being addressed directly by the two great and powerful creatures, managed a squeak and a hasty nod. “Well then... Can you tell us how it works?” *** “I gotta stop waking up like this,” I grumbled, my head throbbing abominably as I slowly rolled to my hooves. The ache was somewhat diminished, but no less persistent. I had hoped it would be gone after a good night's rest, and wondered just how fast unicorns healed – surely not as fast as earth ponies, I reasoned, but almost certainly faster than a human. After all, if I had still been physically human, that kick could have very well killed me or left me brain-damaged. As I hazily contemplated the merits of pony regeneration, the dream replayed in my mind. I usually forgot dreams soon after waking, unless they were particularly enjoyable or interesting, but that one was 'sticking' for some reason; I could see it as clearly in my mind's eye as if it had just happened. Then something odd happened; I started to remember more than just the dream I'd had moments before, farther back, as if the dream had been much longer than I first thought. It kept going back, well before the dream's beginning. I frowned, confused, but it soon dawned on me; the new dream was obviously jogging my memory of an old, forgotten one – the new one was probably some sort of logical continuation of an old, forgotten one. I snagged onto the trail of thought, curious to see what was there, and the details of the earlier dream unfolded in my mind's eye. Soon it was just as clear as what I had just dreamed. Still, the clarity itself was odd. Dreams were almost never that detailed, and with the morning they would go to pieces like an old web in a breeze. Maybe the concussion had something to do with it? Or perhaps the physical alterations to my brain made me better able to remember these things? I had no idea. The only answer was the rumbling of my empty stomach. A look out the window confirmed that it had been far too long since my last meal; it was either very late or very early, and most likely the latter. Oh well. Perhaps there would be something in the fridge. I stumbled out into the hallway, still dazed with the long sleep and vivid dreams, and pondered over the strangeness of it. It was rare I even remembered my dreams, let alone 'continued' where an earlier one left off. It was kind of nice, though, like picking up a story in a book I'd thought lost. Even on an empty stomach I could appreciate a good 'book'. Speaking of which, I peeked into the bathroom and searched for the book I'd been reading earlier. While it was poor manners to read while others were at the table, there was nothing wrong with reading by your lonesome. In any case, I liked reading. I couldn't turn on the TV, anyway, as it might wake the others. Besides, I was bored... And, well, it was a good book, even if it was annoyingly pointed sometimes. In fact... I grinned as an idea came to me. I could multitask! Probably! I was no longer limited to two hands; I could have as many 'hands' as I needed, my own concentration the only limiting factor. I opened the book, levitating it before me with one telekinetic 'hand' and started to read, and absentmindedly rummaged through the fridge with an occasional glance with my other 'hand'. The fridge didn't have much in it, but I managed to make do with some leftover chinese food. Beef, chicken, pork – neither of the others could have it, and I was craving something more substantial than veggies. I grabbed something from the counter as an afterthought, not paying much attention to it as I trotted quietly back to the table with the goods in magical tow. I was too hungry to even worry much about heating it. “Alright, let's see,” I mumbled to no one in particular, levitating a fork full of some sort of pork dish to my mouth as I searched for where I left off, and started to read quietly to myself. “In God you come up against something which is in every respect immeasurably superior to yourself. Unless you know God as that—and, therefore, know yourself as nothing in comparison— you do not know God at all. As long as you are proud you cannot know God. A proud man is always looking down on things and people: and, of course, as long as you are looking down, you cannot see something that is above you.” “Well, that's all fine and dandy,” I grumbled, annoyed that I'd come to a 'prickly' spot so quickly. “But what if they're being stubborn idiots who won't see reason? Of course you have to make them see reason, and if not you have to do what needs to be done...” It was a feeble justification, I knew, but I wasn't in the mood for deep navel gazing. Unfortunately, the pork had lost its savor; I grabbed something else that looked good as I searched for a more pleasant part to read – some good news, for instance. I read on, chewing as I did so, and found my mind wandering as I suddenly felt more awake. 'Hrrmm, good crunch,' I thought distractedly, biting a chunk out of the jawbreaker sized object, reading on to the next paragraph. I swallowed, enjoying the visceral texture, and almost immediately started to feel better. 'Nice cleavage, too. I don't recognize the flavor, though... Wait. What am I eating?' I stopped chewing, perplexed, and looked down. It was all I could do to not shout and wake the house; hovering before me in my telekinetic grip was a quartz crystal, cut and polished in the shape of a sphere. And I had just eaten a chunk of it. “What the FUCK?!” I hissed, dropping the book and stumbling to the bathroom, holding my mouth shut so I wouldn't drip blood anywhere – surely the inside of my mouth was torn to ribbons! Had I really just eaten a mouthful of quartz?! What the hell was wrong with me?! I... Oh God I swallowed it. Oh God please help me... That's it. I had to throw it up. That stuff would kill me if it went through my digestive tract, I was sure of it; all those sharp, hard edges would tear up my intestines, and that would almost certainly send me into septic shock. It wouldn't be pleasant, gagging up the shards of crystal, but a torn up throat was better than dying a slow, painful death as I rotted away from the inside. I don't know how long I stood over the sink, trying to vomit, trembling with mortal terror. In my desperation I poked the back of my throat with a toothbrush, and managed to retch up some of it that way. But... it didn't make any sense. My throat felt fine; there was no tearing, no blood, no pain. Moreover, the pieces I could get up – yes, I had to sift through the pieces, I had to make sure I got most of it – the chunks were rounded and polished clean, as though from a strong acid or tumbling. They didn't look so much like fresh shards of glass as something you'd find washed up on the beach. Dazed and confused, I plopped down on my flank and stared in the mirror. Quartz was tough. It wasn't as hard as diamond or sapphire, but it was definitely on the upper end of the Mohs Hardness scale. But somehow I had managed to take a big bite out of it, chew it up, and swallow it... And somehow my jaw, teeth, and throat were no worse for wear. Indeed, I felt better for having eaten it – my headache was easing, at least, though that could have been the adrenaline. And... Well, the crystal still looked appetizing. There was only one thing for it; I had to test. I had to know what the hell my freaky new body was doing. After thoroughly cleaning a fresh chunk of the crystal – indeed, I'd ran it under hot water for a solid minute, and washed it clean with soap three times – the 'experiment' was ready. I eyed the tiny crystal dubiously. Surely I couldn't eat that... It was insane. At the very least I would chip my tooth, and that would be that. But then, how had I bit through the solid sphere of quartz it in the first place? Moreover, nothing had been 'normal' in the past few days – why should this be any more normal? I grimaced – nothing was making sense. It didn't help that my belly rumbled, and the crystal looked more and more delicious with every passing moment. I made a face, and gently laid the tiny rock on my back molar and closed my teeth on it, ready to stop at the first sign of pain. But no pain came. Instead, the hard little stone fractured like rock candy and crumbled in my mouth. I stopped, my reflection looking back at me with wide eyes, moved the pulverized stone around with my tongue. It felt like there was sand or grit floating in my saliva, nothing worse than that. 'In for a penny, in for a pound,' I thought, forcing myself to push past the strangeness of it all, and started... chewing the grit to a powder. I'll tell you now, no one was more surprised than I to find that not only could I chew the rock, I could actually taste it. Unfortunately, while I can describe the texture – it was a pleasant, gritty, dusty sort of texture, though I don't expect any human to see it that way – I can't describe the flavor. Just as one cannot describe green and red to the colorblind, I can't describe the taste of something the human body was never designed to ingest. Suffice to say, it was pleasant, and while I could taste a sort of earthiness to it I could also taste something else. And, just as one might have specific cravings for certain foods – sweets, meats, vegetables, fruits, etc – I found that I had a craving for raw minerals. I looked in the mirror, unsure of what to make of the new development. “I eat rocks,” I mumbled to dumbfounded reflection. “I... Yeah. That's a thing that's happening now, apparently.” I stared for several moments, trying to bully my brain into some sort of answer, but my brain was apparently out to lunch – perhaps indefinitely. Without another word I trotted back out to the kitchen, keeping my expression carefully blank. I tried not to think about what I was doing as I grabbed a pen and paper, and started writing a note. “Mary,” I wrote in clumsy script, my telekinesis not quite having the fine control of my old hands, “I'm sorry I ate your decoration thingy. I'll buy you a new one. ~James.” Satisfied, I sat back down at the table... and went back to eating the crystalline sphere. I was hungry, and my body was telling me that the mineral was exactly what I needed. So, trying very hard not to think about it or notice the grooves my teeth left in the stone, or how pleasant it felt to grind the granules to powder, or how satisfying it felt when the mixture ran down my throat and into my stomach, I finished my meal. I didn't even touch the rest of the food; I wasn't hungry for it. After packing the rest of it away I went back to the room I'd woken up in, and tried to get back to sleep. At least my headache was gone. *** The little colt simply couldn't believe it; the Great Ones wanted to teach him, personally! He was so excited he couldn't stop prancing around like a foal. They even had chariots – flying chariots, flown by a pair of pegasi – to bring them back, and he got to ride in it with them! And so he was flown back to their castle, and a few minutes later he landed in a well-tended courtyard. “What's that?” he asked, insatiably curious. He had only ever known the village and what he could see from it; the adults never let the foals and young colts and fillies wander very far, it wasn't safe. The elder gave him a kind smile, and answered. “That's a statue,” she explained patiently. “We use those to commemorate important ponies. That one is Starswirl the Bearded, and he devised over 200 spells.” The colt's face lit up as he regarded the immortalized unicorn, and he trotted around it to get a better look at it. That unicorn had made so many spells... yet he himself had already made one. He stopped, and turned to the elder Sister. “Do you think I'll ever be like him? I-I've already made one spell,” he stammered excitedly, trotting quickly on his little legs to catch up to the royal pair. Still smiling serenely as the dawning sun, the eldest cocked her head. “Maybe,” she said, eyes twinkling. “Maybe one day you'll grow up to be as wise and powerful as he was. Or maybe...” She bent her head down to his level, and waved him closer. “Or maybe,” she whispered conspiratorially, “you'll be even greater!” The little colt stared at her, eyes wide as he something trembled inside him. That strange hope flared up again, urging him on. Could he... Could he really be a great pony like Starswirl? Was it even possible to invent more than 200 spells? Maybe... maybe he could do more than that – maybe do something better than invent a whole bunch of spells. A new thought occurred to him, and he blurted it out without thought. “Could I even be like you?” he asked. He immediately felt like he'd crossed some invisible line. The eldest froze, a look of utter surprise on her face, while the younger regarded him with what was almost outrage. “I... I don't think that's possible, dear,” the elder said, her features smoothing as she regained her composure. She reached down and ruffled the colt's mane. “All's well,” she assured him. “The curiosity of youth is easily forgiven, and you meant no ill. Now, off to the dining hall with you! I'll not have my new student starting his first day with an empty tummy, waggling around like an empty sack!” She grinned and reached down with a hoof, tickling his side, making him giggle and shy away. “After you have had your fill, seek out one of the servants – they will help you get settled in. Your schooling begins tomorrow – be sure to get plenty of sleep! James. James. JAMES!” *** I flailed my hooves in the air, dazed and incoherent as I was yelled into wakefulness. “James! What's this about?” Mary's voice said from the other side of the door. “Huh?” was all I could manage. As you are no doubt aware by now, early morning inquisitions are not my strong suit. “That crystal ball thing I had sitting on the windowsill by the counter – this note says you ate it?” The previous night's 'oddness' came flooding back, and I groaned. At least she sounded more confused than angry. Still... how does one tell their friend that one ate their decorations? “Ummm... Yeah, about that,” I stammered, playing for time as my foggy mind tried to come up with something that didn't sound absolutely insane. The silence stretched as I tried and failed to find adequate words. “Well? What happened?” she asked through the door, sounding more and more confused. “Was it some sort of Freudian slip?” With a sigh, I realized I couldn't avoid it; I had to tell her the truth. There weren't any fragments, anyway, so I couldn't lie and pretend it just shattered. I opened the door to face her, and struggled over the next few minutes to not sound absolutely mad as I explained to her exactly how and why I ate her quartz. She was silent throughout the whole explanation, clearly as dumbfounded as I was. “You... really ate a rock.” It was a statement, not a question. I nodded sheepishly. “...Do ponies eat rocks?” Well, that came out of the blue. “What? No, of course they don't,” I said dismissively. “Ponies eat mostly vegetables and fruits and such – you know, horse food. Only dragons eat-” I stopped. I hadn't made the connection before, but it wasn't entirely unheard of for creatures of Equestria to eat rocks – or, more specifically, gemstones. I knew from the show that dragons ate gems, and there was a good chance that diamond dogs ate minerals, too... I frowned, my brow furrowed. “I... Do you think the guy we're looking for screwed up the curse? Maybe he accidentally made me part dragon, or part something else that eats minerals?” I mumbled, more to myself than to her as I considered the the facts. My mind was already categorizing the things I knew and sifting through them as I said it. Alright; I definitely wasn't a normal pony, not by a long shot. I had a blank flank, freakishly colored eyes, carnivorous teeth, and a mutant horn that no other unicorn seemed to possess. I could consume meat, and apparently minerals. Oh Lord, please let me be be able to process minerals. I cringed as I imagined what kind of hell it would give me if I couldn't 'process' what I'd eaten, and was grateful that they'd at least be smooth when they 'passed'- “Huh. Maybe. Alright, whatever,” she said, thankfully breaking me out of my disturbing inner reverie. There are some things a person just shouldn't have to think about. She continued, blissfully ignorant of my fears. “It's not important, anyway. I've got a bed of milky quartz in the backyard garden, knock yourself out. Just... don't eat any more of the décor, okay?” She gave me a warm smile, the kind of smile that said 'it's okay, but let's not talk about it'. I nodded bashfully, and followed her out to the living room. “Soooo, um, are my parents here?” I asked, fishing for a different topic. “Huh? Oh, no, they're still at their house,” she said, chuckling. “Though, they did eat here last night. I can't say it was a very comfortable dining experience, what with having to eat with my face and hooves,” she giggled, and despite her words I could tell that she really did have a good time. Of course, she always has a good time; I have yet to meet someone that she didn't get along with that wasn't either violent or mental or both. I grinned at the thought of her eating with my family – it was just like her, hitting it off even with a face covered in food and wearing a pony's body. She smiled, cocking her head inquisitively. “You look like you're feeling better. Is that headache gone?” she asked, eying the spot on my head. I nodded – all that remained was the occasional twinge if I moved my head too quickly or bent my neck at odd angles. “I think so, yeah...” Perhaps my body knew what it needed to heal? I always craved lots of vitamins when I got a cold; perhaps my body needed raw minerals to repair itself more quickly? Food for thought. The conversation drifted from there as we prepared our breakfasts – she went all out making pancakes and eggs, while the extent of my cooking involved placing more of the leftovers in a microwave safe bowl and pressing a few buttons. To my relief, I was actually hungry for 'real' food, and no just rocks. We talked as we ate, and I tried to teach her some basic levitation so she didn't have to eat with her mouth and 'feet'. She took to it quickly – it wasn't long before she could levitate a fork and knife, and carefully cut her pancakes into bits. I cocked my head and watched her, considering - maybe males had more raw power, while females had more refined control. Or perhaps she was just more magically gifted than I was – she was wearing the body of an alicorn, after all. Ah well – no reason to bother her about it, she was learning how to do it and that was what mattered. It was pleasant, teaching her what I knew – as little as that was, of course, but it's not every day you learn to move things with your mind. She seemed to regard it as funny, almost, like it was a toy, but maybe she just saw magic differently than I did. Of course, the pleasant conversations and experimentation couldn't last long. We eventually finished the meal and lapsed into silence, and she looked perturbed by something. I lacked her natural empathy and her ability to 'know' what people were feeling, so naturally I assumed I'd done something wrong. “Ummm... Are you actually mad about the quartz globe?” I asked, blushing and fumbling for some reasonable explanation. “I've got something similar at home if you want it, I'm sure my parents wouldn't mind bringing-” She waved a hoof dismissively, the contemplative look never leaving her face. “No, no, that's fine,” she muttered. “It's just, well, Luna contacted us last night.” “Us?” I asked, frowning. “Yes – me and Luke. She pulled us into a dream, I guess, while we were sleeping. We discussed some stuff, but in the end she said she had something important to tell us. And, well... She doesn't want you to know what it is.” I stared at her, nonplussed. “Wait. You're joking, right? That's stupid. Unless she's organizing this year's Secret Santa, why would she tell you something she can't tell me? She doesn't really know any of us, why should she trust the two of you and leave me out?” Mary, to her credit, commiserated like a master. “I know, right? I mean, we've been friends for years and I barely know her. It must feel like she's trying to drive us apart. But... Still. I'm not sure she'll tell us unless we give her our word.” She blushed apologetically. “And it may be something really important...” I winced, annoyed. Who was this 'Luna' to have problem with me? I hadn't done anything to earn her ire, and now she was trying to leave me out of the loop? Nope. Not gonna happen, she-wench. “Thanks for telling me,” I said, forcing a pleasant expression on my face. “Whatever she's up to, it can't be just to help us; she must have some ulterior motive. She doesn't know us, after all, and she can't really care for our success and failure that much. There must be some benefit to her if she's going to all this trouble. I think, if she really feels this is important, you can probably force her hand. Tell her that it's all of us or none of us – that, even if she tries to keep me ignorant, you and Luke will tell me anyway. But be sure to be aloof about the actual information, though – give her the impression that she's the one who really benefits from us, or whatever plans she has for us, and that we can do without her.” It wasn't really true, of course – we had no other leads, and like it or not we probably needed whatever information she could give us – but I wasn't about to be led around by some stranger. She looked dubiously at me. “That sounds really, really manipulative,” she said, frowning. “Don't you think that's a little extreme? Can't we just, well, talk it out? She seems like a reasonable person.” I shrugged matter-of-factly, and gave her a firm look. “She needs to know that she's not the boss of-” of me “-of us. She can't go along like this, acting like she's the one in control of things.” I said, thumping a hoof on the table to emphasize the point. Mary stared at me, and again I felt like she was looking into my very heart. Well, fine. I spoke the truth, she couldn't deny the truth. “...I don't think she wants to boss us around,” she said finally. Ah. Apparently she could deny the truth... Damn. How was I the only one who saw this 'Luna' for what she really was, who recognized her little power games? “Alright,” I said dismissively, “do what you want. If we're going to be a team in this, I'm sure you'll tell me later – even if you do have to break your promise to her, or lie to her outright.” It was a low blow, but the implications were clear; she had to choose whether she'd be with me or 'Luna'. She was silent for a few moments, collecting herself. It was my turn to be surprised when she gave me a look of disgust. “Just stop,” she finally said, just as firm as I had been. “Stop what, exactly?” I asked, narrowing my eyes and hoping I hadn't miscalculated. Too late. She'd found her tongue and her spine, and she got to her hooves. “Just stop. Stop being conniving, stop trying to boss us around, stop trying to manipulate us – you know, your friends? – just to get your way. You're not the boss here; we don't answer to you. We're in this together, as equals. Just... stop treating us like your subordinates, and start treating us like your friends.” She grimaced as if swallowing a bitter pill, but even so she seemed relieved to have that all out in the open. She'd apparently been holding it in for a while. But there was no look of victory on her face – only a steely sort of sorrow. I stared at her, at a loss for words. She never spoke like that to me before, never been... Pushy. Never looked at me with disgust. It would have been easier if she'd shouted, but she only held her ground as peacefully as she could manage. Worse yet, I knew deep down that what she said was true and well earned – I had been treating them like soldiers to command rather than friends to help. Worse, I'd been playing on their guilt and their loyalty to do so. Everything she said... it was true. It stung to realize just how petty I had been. How I'd screwed up. How selfish I was when it mattered the most. It made me feel like... ...Like it would be easier to justify myself than to examine my fault. It would certainly feel better than that gnawing guilt. I narrowed my eyes, a rebuttal already on my lips. “Alright. Let's talk about treating people like friends,” I said, regarding her coldly. “You two have been treating me like some sort of monster. My own brother kicked my head in for, what? Brainstorming some ideas? Panicking? And now that someone's trying to come between us, to split our group, you're going to side with her? Tell me, what kind of 'friends' would do that to an alleged 'friend'?” She looked as if I'd splashed her with a bucket of ice water. “I never said I would-” she started to interrupt, but I plowed on. “And now," I all but shouted, giving free reign to my temper, "all I've done is try to remind you of where your loyalties should lie – with your friends, not some random stranger who is by all accounts delusional – you have the GALL to treat me like I'm the bad guy here?!” “Now hold on!" She had to raise her voice to be heard, but even so she refused to get angry. "See, you keep on twisting things-” “I'm not going to stand here listening to this,” I growled, shoving past her and heading to the back yard. Useless, interfering filly... She didn't care one bit about keeping the team together. Didn't she realize she'd have to take a hard line with this 'Luna', or else we'd end up following her instead? And, so what if I tried to be the leader? Someone had to lead the group, and neither she nor Luke were up to the job. It had to be ME. Stomping into the back yard, furious at her, and looked for a cool, quiet place to calm down. A likely patch of crushed rock caught my eye. At least Mary was true to her word on that account; her garden had a bed of cool, clean milky quartz, and there was a large empty area under the shade of the eaves. Normally crushed rock wouldn't be the ideal place to lay, but it was oddly appealing. Without another thought, I trudged over to the bed of stone, shifted it into a comfortable pile a few inches high and a few feet wide, and curled up on top of it. “Really is comfy,” I muttered, starting to calm down. I surprised at how it felt against my coat. The points and jags didn't seem to even bother me, and instead it was almost like laying on a beanbag chair. With a look to the left and right to make sure the coast was clear, I gingerly nipped one and tried a sample. Hmmm... A bit more grainy than the regular quartz, but good. I sighed and rested my eyelids – that argument took a lot out of me, I realized, and I wasn't fully healed. Maybe just a quick nap... Naturally, I was out like a light. *** The colt had grown up. He'd found his place in the world as a student of Celestia and a practitioner of the magic of Order. He was proud of his skill and self-satisfied, and was admired throughout the kingdom for his pivotal involvement in the cleansing of all the Chaos magic from Equestria. Well, most of it, anyway. And there was the rub. “But, Celestia,” he said, frowning as he tried to keep up with the solar princess. Curse her almost absurdly long legs and stride. “Why not get rid of ALL of the chaos? Surely the nation would be better off without it!” “You mean, bring it to order? Bring it back to its original nature, before it was corrupted by Discord?” she asked, giving him her usual, infuriatingly mysterious smile. “Well, yes,” he said bluntly, surprised at how easy the argument had been won. She already saw his point; he wouldn't have to belabor it. “So, when can we start? The chaos magic is contained for now, so I suppose it's not pressingly urgent, but all the same I'd like to-” “Have you not considered,” she asked, stopping and regarding him with the same smile, “that the Everfree has always been chaotic? Even before Discord?” The unicorn stopped. The thought had never occurred to him that something could be naturally... chaotic. “I... Wait, what?” he asked, eye twitching as he tried and failed to fit the new concept in his mind. Everything had to be ordered, everything had to be in its place. Nothing could NOT be where it was meant to be, because if it was not meant to be where it was meant to be, that would be a contradiction! And contradictions went against the fundaments of logic, which itself was one of the foundations of order! It didn't- “There is more to magic – and life, and all things under the sun – than Order, Sombra,” she said sympathetically, seeing him struggle with the very idea that anything could be inherently chaotic. “In this case, there is also balance. Magic needs a place to be wild and free, or it will be chaotic where we don't want it to be. Moreover, the geography of the area predisposes it to unpredictable magical phenomena – the random lightning storms and weather, the wild growing flora and fauna, even the flows of magic behave in a chaotic manner. And all of that is as it should be.” He still wasn't taking it very well; she could see that plainly on his face. She stretched a wing comfortingly over his barrel in a sort of hug. “You're a creature of order; you and I both know this,” she said. “And should I ever need advisement on a matter of the magic of order, rest assured I will seek your council. But in this matter, I ask only one thing of you.” “Y-yes, Your Highness?” he asked, still holding to the glimmer of hope that she might relent and let him bring order to the forest. “Just trust me,” she said simply. “Trust me and accept that I know more about the greater world than you do, and that the Everfree's chaos is not evil or harmful to ponykind.” He could not understand how chaos could commingle with order and not cause problems for all involved. He could not even understand how something could be inherently chaotic. He could, however, understand that he'd just been told, by his monarch, to drop it. The metaphorical logic-loop in his mind ceased its endless execution, his mental program reaching an alternate 'return' statement. The Royal Interrupt had unfrozen his processor. He could not understand natural chaos, no; but he could understand the rightful authority of the crown. He felt the tension leave his neck as he accepted it. “As you wish, Your Majesty,” he said contently, bowing to her. Her eyes widened in surprise at the sudden change and formality, but she shook it off – he was odd, but he was good in his own way. “Take care, my little pony!” she said. The black unicorn blushed watched her trot away, his heart at ease. No doubt she was busy with some royal business, and- “Kiss her you fool!” a mad voice cackled. The dream around me froze, the illusion broken, and began to fade away. I stumbled, my mind divided – on one hoof I was Celestia's student off to study more about the magic of order, and on the other I was a human trapped in the body of a pony. The latter quickly won, however, and after a few moments my disorientation faded. I would have had more time to consider that odd division, but I recognized that voice... and it chilled me to the core. “F-fuck! NO! Leave me alone or... Or I'll get Luna!” I stammered, terrified. Discord tsked, lounging back in a recliner and reaching into a bag of popcorn kernels. He tossed a few raw kernels into his mouth, where they proceeded to pop and fly out his nose. It might have been amusing if his casual manipulation of reality, the way he turned things on their head, wasn't so clearly a threat. “Really now, cowardice doesn't suit you. Nor does 'running to mommy', though I doubt you could even make her notice you. Not that your pride would let you, I expect.” He smirked, taking a bite out of a cup of soda and drinking a box of Junior Mints. “Anyway, I'm feeling nice today, so I promise not to give you the screaming horrors so long as I don't feel like it.” He snorted a few loose kernels out of his nose and climbed to his hodgepodge legs, dusting off his paws and claws and making the recliner and food disappear. “Now, regarding my amusement – are you listening? It really is in your best interest to keep me amused! – here's my dilemma. I can't tell which would be more entertaining, telling you the truth or watching you bumble about in the dark. So, help me decide.” I eyed him suspiciously, expecting a trick. “Wh-what? What are you talking about?” I asked levelly, not trusting his dubious promise not to hurt me. The Discord from the show was utterly capricious, and this imposter seemed even more insane and unpredictable. “What is there to know? Is it how to return to my original form?” He looked at me, dumbstruck... and then burst into laughter. “Oh, oh, this is too rich!” he giggled, falling to the floor and kicking his legs, clutching his belly as he cackled. “You, you are just too much! All of these clues, all of these hints, and you still haven't the faintest idea what's going on!” I wanted to tell him to shut up and get to the point, but my prudence was greater than my valor; I kept silent and waited for his little fit of malicious laughter to subside. Best not to poke the 'dragon'. When he finally got control of himself once more, he gave me a gimlet eye. “Ya know,” he muttered slyly, scratching his chin, “I suppose I could do both... I could tell you the truth, but in such a way that you would never accept it... Best of both worlds! You'd be tormented by the edges of the truth, AND you'd keep bumbling around like a foal! And you're just stubborn and proud enough for it to work! Yes, yes, Discord you are a genius!” He clapped his hands, tittering unpleasantly as he leered. “What are you talking about?” I managed to ask steadily, barely following what he was saying. He snickered a bit more before climbing to his feet... And then burst out laughing again at the sight of me. The heat rose to my cheeks; clearly he found me utterly ridiculous. “Now, hold on, there's no need to be insulting,” I grumbled, pride wounded enough to speak past the fear. “I just-” “You're really Sombra,” he managed to choke out without preamble as he wiped tears from his eyes, still laughing hysterically. “-just – wait. What? Yeah, I look like Sombra, I get that-” “No, no!” he giggled, ignoring my fuming as he kept laughing at me. It was getting old. “You ARE Sombra! Born and raised! There is no other Sombra but you! You are the – what was that term you used? Pony Hitler?” He snickered, giving a Nazi salute as a stereotypical mustache and SS hat decorated his person. “Well, Heil mein Fuhrer! Heil King Sombra!” He gave a mocking bow, eyes gleaming with malice as he leered. I shrank back, expecting some sort of prank or trick. “And now that I've had my fun... Now that I've planted my seeds of worry and doubt... Wakey wakey!”